Handicraft
by Dr. Breifs Cat
Summary: When Tony and Pepper's romance causes some problems at the office, Pepper has to take matters into her own hands.  MOVIE-VERSE


Disclaimers: All standard apply

Notes: For _It's Always Been_'s 9th challenge

**Handicraft**

The phone is off the hook and in her hand within seconds of the office door clicking shut. By now, dialing Tony's cellphone is a reflex action - she hasn't actually remembered hitting the speed dial in years. If her situation was anything less dire, she would not consider using a company line for a personal call. Pepper doesn't bother with pleasantries. As usual, he's the one responsible for her straits. "Where are you?"

"How did the meeting go?" Tony asks. His voice is slow and deep. It's a tone Pepper has recognized for years, one that means he has taken advantage of certain...opportunities that she has not had.

"Fine," Pepper answers through gritted teeth. Her question was an urgent one. She isn't interested in discussing the disastrous conference that ended a moment ago. The future repercussions of her wayward meeting will be dealt with in turn, but at the moment, Pepper has little patience for shop talk. She's at a disadvantage in every way and Pepper needs to turn present circumstances to her favor.

Tony persists. "Really?" He sounds surprised. She can picture the pull of his frown.

"No," she sighs. "Of course not." She spent the meeting with the vivid memory of Tony on his knees before her. His sweat-slicked palms gripping her hips - his mouth open against her - tongue twisting and swirling inside of her. He had not moved yet to her clit, but she _knew_ it had been the destination he had in mind. The anticipation enhanced her pleasure. The power she held over him had made her breathless - Tony Stark, _on his knees_ - in the office of the CEO. That she was the exposed party, vulnerable and laid bare, didn't register. That no matter how tightly she gripped the edge of her desk, the only reason she remained upright was because his large, powerful hands were holding her up, didn't matter.

_That_ had been the precarious position they were in when Bambi, Pepper's secretary, announced the arrival of her utterly forgotten 2 o'clock appointment over the intercom. It was not until after Tony had left, hiding his obvious erection behind a cardboard box full of his old office decor and making smarmy excuses at the intruder, that Pepper realized that in the scramble, she had completely lost track of her underwear. Her thoughts throughout the meeting had been a disorganized jumble of arousal, unmet needs and the vision of what Tony looked like when he humbled himself for her pleasure. She imagined the view of herself from the other side of the desk - flushed and sweaty. She could hear the forthcoming rumors about what the position of CEO at Stark Industries now entails, spurred on by the sight of Tony exiting the office of an aroused woman. She spent the entire conversation carefully avoiding looking anywhere behind her charge, for fear that her panties were dramatically draped over a ficus, that it was already too late for damage control.

"I don't even know what I signed off on," Pepper admits.

"Now you see what I had to live with," Tony chides. There's more good humor on his end that she can really abide.

"That's probably more true than I care to think about," she sighs. Pepper doesn't care to penalize Tony for his past dalliances - he was beholden to no one and it is counterproductive, besides. But that doesn't mean his previous adventures in this office are a favored conversation topic. "You have approximately 30 seconds to get back here before I stop trying to convince myself that the polite thing to do is let you participate."

"I can't wait to see what you think is impolite."

"This isn't funny, Tony."

"Who's laughing?" he snorts. "My plans for the afternoon didn't include blue balls, promise."

"Tony -"

"- Not that I think I've been oversold on this relationship thing, mind you, but certain past experiences have lead me to believe you were both a sure thing and a master of scheduling."

"A 'sure-?'" she sputters. "That's romantic, very respectful, thank you. Regardless, even I can get distracted."

"Foiled by my own skills." The pride in his voice is evident.

"I'm sorry, your thirty seconds are up. Bye now."

"No, no, no, Pepper," he pleads, shedding some of his mirth. "You need to be polite."

"I only intend to follow your example," she points out.

"What? That's - Look, different circumstance. I didn't have anyone clamoring for my time and I know you don't want me walking around the place with a -"

Whatever colorful euphemism Tony had in mind for his erect penis, Pepper doesn't hear it. His sated speech has two unfortunate consequences - the first being that she knows he's been intimate with himself and it makes her want him more, makes already unbearable levels of arousal more intense. Secondly, as he continues to put off getting her off, she grows more irritable with the fact that he came and she was left wanting. She takes no issues with taking matters into her own hands, but strung out as she is, she would rather do it sooner than later.

While she normally prefers an aid of some sort for masturbation - Pepper has a modest collection of vibrators and quality erotica at home - at the office, she is limited to a private washroom and her fingers. She'd prefer Tony's - blunt and thick where hers are petite and manicured, but like always when it comes to her pleasure, he's consistently interested in delaying her gratification. Which, Pepper will freely admit, has its place. If he wants to build her up to a torturous degree of arousal and bring her down hard _at home_, when they have time and space and no responsibilities but to each other, she appreciates it more than she can say. She's a sexual creature and he's not looking for a madonna or a chaste good girl. Most of her past romances have involved men who looked at her style, tailored, pristine and elegant, and assumed she's some model of purity, that she finds passion to be a chore. Not Tony. He notes the way she dresses to accentuate her figure, her leggy skirts worn without hosiery and striking curve of her red-soled heels. He's well aware of her idea of tasteful.

But, they aren't at home, they are at Stark Industries' main Los Angeles location. The responsibilities are endless and easy to overlook when one is focused more on achieving completion than anything else. Pepper has neither the time nor the patience for him to drag things out any longer.

She slips out of her shoes and pads across her office to her adjoining washroom. It's not the best setting. She's surrounded by cold, hard surfaces - the tiled floor, the marble sink, the ceramic toilet. Pepper strips herself of her skirt and jacket, draping both over the towel rack on the wall. Without her jacket, Pepper can more easily slip a hand up her shirt, where she plucks and squeezes her nipples. In the mirror, just before her eyes slide shut, Pepper sees her skin flush darker.

She hears Tony enter.

Pepper forces her eyes open. Tony is late, much too late. She purses her lips and mouths, "_No._"

He breathes her name as a protest, then intakes sharply when her other hand travels between her own legs. Her focus is on her poor, neglected clitoris at first, rubbing and circling, applying pressure and friction. Her inner muscles clench around nothing as she pushes herself closer and closer. Soon, Pepper takes pity on herself and the hand up her shirt meanders downwards to join the one nestled lower. She allows herself just two fingers inside as she continues to rub. She doesn't know if she's moaning - maybe she is. Tony is. When she begins to lower herself to the floor, he slides behind her. Her earlier refusal of his touch is respected - he doesn't _help_. He just keeps her from toppling when her knees buckle under the weight of her own orgasm.

When Pepper comes back to reality, Tony has folded her body against his own. His eyes are wide and dark, surprised and lusty. She still won't give in to him. That's how she got into this mess in the first place. Instead Pepper asks, "Do you have my panties?"

it takes him a moment to process the question. "Uh, not with me, but, yeah. Snagged 'em on my way out."

"Good." Pepper takes a deep breath, then another. Another concern melts off her. "Good."

He grins. "If I knew you wanted me to steal your underwear, I would have started a long time ago. Somehow, I always assumed that was frowned upon."

Her lead lolls against his shoulder. "I spent that whole meeting terrified they were in plain sight somewhere." There will still be damage control to do, but she can stave off any rumors for now with a good spin and plausible deniability. She'll also have to deploy some decoys to arrest the progress of whatever initiative she unwittingly green lit until she decides if it is something she actually wants.

"I thought you spent the whole thing lusting after me," he mutters, selecting the hand that Pepper had curled inside of herself and pulling it to his face. Tony inhales.

"I was doing both." Pepper shakes her head, the effect somewhat subdued by the fact that her head is cushioned by his shoulder. "Never again, do you hear me? You are never wrestling me out of my underwear in this building ever again."

His mouth quirks. "An attitude like that makes it hard to enjoy a day at the office." He sucks her index finger into his mouth, down to the knuckle. In her frenzy, she had not noticed how deeply she had driven into herself until Tony claimed the residue left for himself.

"You'll find someway to amuse yourself, I'm sure."


End file.
